


Unbreakable: Spirit

by Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)



Series: Shiro Week 2k17 [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternative Universe - BOM!Keith, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blade of Marmora! Keith, Gen, I'm late as fuck X_X, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kinda but it is not there, Kinda threats of violence and/or rape, Kinda?, Shiro Week 2017, Shiro and Keith meeting for the first time, day 5: isolation/companion, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDestineeZara/pseuds/Destinee%20Zara
Summary: The Arena wasn’t only for the public entertainment.There was a more nefarious secret objective that Shiro discovered on the worst way possible.The Arena was a way to find out which prisoners would be best suited for Haggar’s twisted experiments. She liked to pick the stronger fighters, the natural born leaders and the tougher aliens to make experiments for her robbeasts and other projects.And Shiro was a winner, a Champion.Nothing good happened to champions there.(Written for the fifth day of the Shiro Week hosted by blackpaladinweek.tumblr.com, theme "Isolation/Companion")





	Unbreakable: Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: English is not my first language, so there is just one peculiarity before you start reading:  
> \- [Text after dashes] = TALKING (A Romance Language custom)  
> "[Text between quotation marks]" = THINKING  
> This story is un-edited (I had some issues with having it betaed), so pardon any English mistakes. 
> 
> Written for the fifth day of the Shiro Week hosted by blackpaladinweek.tumblr.com, theme "Isolation/Companion"
> 
> You can help me divulge this fanfic on tumblr by rebloging this post:  
> [[HERE]](http://wonderland-s-angel.tumblr.com/post/167948588611/unbreakable-part-%C2%BD-spirit-author)
> 
> Now, to the story!

The Arena wasn’t only for the public entertainment.

There was a more nefarious secret objective that Shiro discovered on the worst way possible.

The Arena was a way to find out which prisoners would be best suited for Haggar’s twisted experiments. She liked to pick the stronger fighters, the natural born leaders and the tougher aliens to make experiments for her robbeasts and other projects.

And Shiro was a winner, a Champion.

Nothing good happened to champions there.

At first, she came straight for his mind. His hair turned white on the point she used most of her energy. His face had a long scar because of the muzzle Haggar put on him (to muffle his screams). She complained that he was resisting too much, that he should allow his mind to succumb under her ministrations.

Shiro only cried.

There was no point on arguing with her.

(And on some days he was so exhausted and so broken that he would succumb if only he knew how to do that).

Then she came for his body, for his hand to be more precise.

Haggar cut it and replaced it with a deadly metal arm.

She also studied him, making experiments to see how to crack him, how to dominate his body functions and how to “enhance” them.

Slowly, she was turning him into a monster, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

The Arena was still her testing ground, to see his “progress”, to make him fight and fight and fight and fight…

Shiro didn’t want to die.

Thus, he fought.

In the beginning, the other prisoners would talk to him friendly, bonding over their shared condition as slaves.

After the Arena, many of them cowered away from him.

This was probably what hurt Shiro the most.

Some still stayed close, some of those who saw Shiro’s bravery and his leader skills. They had fought side by side sometimes, teaming up against bigger and tougher opponents. A few of them would try to articulate plans of escape, but Shiro would always think that they were pointless.

It didn’t matter though, for he was taken away from his friends and allies soon enough, as Haggar interest on him grew. She put him in a lonely cell. It had running water and a better bed (a mattress on the floor was still better than sleeping on the actual metal floor), but it was still a solitary cell. The only times Shiro was out was when he was being dragged to the Arena or to her lab.

There was no other contact with anyone in any way.

A sentry delivered his meals throught a small hatch.

The guards who escorted him almost never spoke, and when they did, it was only to belittle and taunt him. He was forbidden to answer.

On the Arena, he could only scream.

Shiro didn’t know how long it have been since he was there, either as a prisoner or on that specific cell.

There was not time in space.

No sun to indicate if it was day or night, just artificial light all day long, all the time. His cell didn’t even have a window, illuminated by an artificial low-light.

He could count time in between the sentries march, but he had no idea of how long it had been in between them.

He guessed his meals were delivered in regular intervals, but he was never sure.

Even the beats of his heart seemed erratic.

The metal walls were his only friends and the silence his worst enemy.

Shiro would talk with a rusty bolt (the only different thing on the walls) for what seemed to be hours. He would tell the bolt about his life, about his story, about his old dreams and then repeat all over again. Obviously, he did never get an answer back, and that seemed to hurt the most. He longed for a friendly word, a cruel word, any word.

Just not the silence.

He imagined that the Galra were watching his cell, and if they weren’t, Haggar probably had seen all his memories when she fucked up his brain. Thus, it was pointless to try to hide anything.

Pointless.

That seemed to sum up his whole existence now.

Pointless.

What was him, if not a pointless waste of carbon?

He wished Haggar would just kill him already or just erase his mind once for all. She didn’t seem to like it anyway.

Speaking of the witch messing with his brain, Shiro’s thoughts and memories seemed to blur together. He was forgetting things about the Arena fights, about some of Haggar’s experiments on him, about the faces of the people he met on space. He caught himself more than once repeating the same stories for his bolt friend.

Was he going crazy due to isolation or have the witch fried his mind?

Shiro didn’t know, and, honestly, knowing the cause wouldn’t help him at all.

He didn’t know how long it have been.

Time was broken and so was he.

After all that time, Shiro was giving up.

Why stay alive if it was to live like that?

At first Shiro started to pick up fights with the guards, but they have express orders to just immobilize him, not to harm him in any way.

Then he stopped eating. Haggar was pissed with him and fed him by force (tying him to a chair and forcing a tube down to his throat).

Finally, Shiro was getting sloppier on the Arena. He was seriously considering just letting it go and not fighting.

Death seemed to be the only option.

He hoped he wouldn’t be alone on the other side. And if there wasn’t an other side, at least he would suffer no more.

Haggar was NOT happy about it. Shiro took pleasure in the fact that she couldn’t do anything about it. However, she wasn’t willing to lose her Champion that fast.

At some point, the door of Shiro’s cell was open.

He looked up from his mattress, ready to just stand up and follow the guards quietly (even if he didn’t know if it was towards the Arena or towards the lab).

To Shiro’s surprise, it weren’t only guards who were there. Four guards followed a druid with a long mask. Two of said guards were dragging another prisoner to the cell. The druid looked on Shiro’s direction.

\- Haggar sent her regard and this gift. He’s all yours.

They tossed the prisoner at the floor unceremoniously.

\- We already made him ready for you.

One of the guards laughed.

\- And they say that Marmora rats make celibacy vows. You lucky bastard.

The door was closed again.

Shiro immediately looked at the prisoner.

The person had jet-black long hair arranged in a messy braid which length reached his waist. His skin was pale and looked very akin with human skin (it was easy to notice this because he was naked). He was smaller than Shiro. He was slim built and had well-toned muscles. His body showed many marks of a recent beaten (red marks on his back and arms from the places that were hit) and his right shoulder seemed to be out of place. He groaned and seemed to curl into himself.

Shiro needed to open his mouth a few times trying to articulate a sentence.

\- Are you all right?

The man raised his head and glared at him. It took Shiro’s breath away.

He seemed to be on his late teens or early twenties, but younger than Shiro by a few years. He had a sharp face, thin lips, rosy cheeks and the most beautiful eyes Shiro had ever seen. Long lashes, downturned big eyes in a deep purple colour.

As purple as the Galra skin.

Shiro didn’t need to be a genius to know that somehow that boy was related to the Galra. Not with that unnatural eerie eye colour that seemed to have a faint glow in the low-lighted cell.

He growled at Shiro and Shiro just showed his hands in a peaceful gesture.

Did Galra even understand what “peace” was, by the way?

He didn’t know. He said his crew and him were from a peaceful planet and they still beaten and enslaved them.

So, no. Probably not.

The young man still glared at him while he tried to put as much distance as he could between them. It was almost comical how he was in the farthest corner of the cell he could from Shiro.

\- Stay away from me. – he growled, like a feral cat.

An elegant lion with a very long black mane.

Shiro nodded.

\- As you wish.

He just sat on his bed, studying the boy who had been tossed in his cell. More specifically, his wounds. His shoulder was what worried Shiro the most, but he had a torn lip, a nasty swollen and reddish area on his left cheek, and probably some broken ribs. He seemed to curl into himself out of pain.

His “gift”.

A person who obviously didn’t want to be there.

A person for him to…

\- Stop fucking staring at me! – the boy growled again.

Shiro averted his eyes with a sigh.

Haggar must be truly desperate to keep him alive if she even took a desperate measure for her standards.

But if the boy was part Galra, why would they treat him like that?

The guard called him “Marmora rat”, but that only raised more questions in Shiro’s head than answers. What he could suppose was that being a “Marmora rat” was a crime inside the Galra Empire punished on the worst way possible.

Rape or cold blood murder.

At least those seemed to be what Haggar expected him to do.

Well, he was glad to disappoint her on that. He wasn’t going to punish the boy in any way, especially not with those heinous acts. The punishment was light-years away from being suitable to whatever he has done to enrage the Empire.

Shiro lay down again turning his back to the boy. He was positive that the young man was too wounded to try to kill him, and even if he did, Shiro would probably let him.

Only a few minutes seemed to have passed when Shiro head a muffled whimper.

He had spent a lot of time conditioning his mind and body not to react unless extremely necessary.

Oh, but his instinct and his good nature were still there, even under all those layers of scars.

There was an injured person in his cell and he couldn’t just not do anything.

Shiro sighed resigned while sitting again on his mattress.

\- You’re hurt.

The boy seemed to have a fever, for he was sweating and his face, neck and shoulders were red. He tried to curl even more at the sound of Shiro’s voice, hiding his body the best way he could. However, he also raised his head in a challenge. His eyes were glassy and his bottom lip seemed to be in a worse shape than before due to being bit too hard.

\- Fuck off.

\- And you’re in pain. – Shiro continued, ignoring the swear words – I can help you with your shoulder.

\- I don’t want your help, _Champion_.

Shiro ignored the tone he said “Champion”. What he thought or not about him was irrelevant. The Galra would do as they please after all.

He stood up.

\- I can put it back in place.

\- STAY BACK!

There was a lot of anger on that new growl, a fury of someone who would fight until their last breath.

However, Shiro couldn’t help but notice the fear.

Damn… the boy was scared to death. He trembled and he tried to get even more distance from Shiro. Even with his lean muscles and fighting abilities, he was still too injured to be able to defend himself. If Shiro wanted, he could subdue him easily. That fear only seemed to increase when Shiro took a few steps in his direction.

\- BACK OFF!

Even in the low light, there was another thing that Shiro couldn’t help but notice now that he was closer. The boy had an erection that he was trying to hide at any costs.

Shiro felt a shiver running down his spine in horror when he remembered what the druid had said earlier.

“We already made him ready for you.”

What Haggar and the druids were trying to make him do was already beyond repulsive, and they still found a way to make it even worse. How humiliating it would be to rub on the boy’s face that he was “aroused” while being raped.

The ultimate humiliation.

No wonder the boy was scared to death.

That game Shiro refused to play. It was already revolting to be forced to fight for his life in the Arena. He wouldn’t be a monster inside his cell too if he could help it.

He changed course and walked towards the tap.

In that solitary cell, he had a latrine that was fluxed at regular periods and a tap with running water above a drain. It seemed ordinary, but for a prisoner of the Galra those were extreme luxuries. The tap was located in a long distance from the floor (all Shiro could imagine was that it was higher than one metre and lower than a metre and a half, but even that was a crude guess). It had a good flux of running cold (almost freezing) water. He didn’t know the logic behind allowing running water in a Galra ship (he always supposed water should be rationed), but Shiro didn’t care.

He opened the tap a little, just enough to make some noise.

\- I don’t know what they did to you, – Shiro said, staring at the water and not at the other man – but maybe the cold water can take the edge of it.

The boy didn’t move, and just stared at him warily.

Shiro sighed and walked back towards him.

\- Back off!

The older boy crouched in front of his cellmate.

\- I’m not going to hurt you.

\- Is that what you say to all your opponents on the Arena, _Champion_? – he glared, trying to curl even more.

\- I… I don’t have a choice in the Arena… - he answered quietly, feeling ashamed of himself and the things he did in order to survive.

The other man only narrowed his eyes.

\- You could have fooled me. – he replied with sarcasm.

Shiro sighed tiredly and stared at the boy’s eerie eyes.

\- Look… I don’t want to hurt anybody and I don’t want to hurt you. – he showed the palm of his hands again – I just want to help you, ok?

The boy still stared at him warily.

\- Besides, - Shiro continued with another sigh – you’re hurt. Even if you know how to fight, the advantage is still mine.

\- And is that supposed to tranquilize me? – he asked with gritted teeth.

\- My point is, if I wanted to attack you for whatever reason I could already have done it. But I don’t want that. I just want to help.

The young man studied him for some time before nodding. Shiro smiled at him relieved.

He tried to stand up, but apparently, whatever they have given he made him dizzy. He groaned and paled, his legs give in and he hit his knees back on the floor. The only reason why he didn’t hit his head was because Shiro was fast in holding him. He was warm.

Too warm.

That wasn’t natural at all.

The boy shouted and tried to get away, but Shiro held him tightly and dragged until he was under the tap.

The young man growled and recoiled as soon as he was put down again.

\- I’m going to open the tap now. – Shiro announced while standing up.

His companion yelped as soon as the cold water touched him, but he stayed under the flux taking deep breaths, as if it was easy to breathe there. His long hair was getting soaked, with his braid getting even messier than before.

Shiro smiled again before crouching near him again.

\- Better?

The boy frowned but nodded again. His skin was less red now.

Shiro mimicked the nod.

\- Good! That’s a start. Do you know what they gave to you?

He moved to sit in a different position now that his erection had died down under the cold water. He was still protective of his genitals, but now he was looking at Shiro with a little less fear.

\- A weird injection. – he showed his arm where there was a purple horrible haematoma around a prick mark on the inside of the elbow joint (as if he had resisted the injection) – I thought it was going to be truth serum or something to torture me.

Shiro shrugged.

\- It’s still a drug to torture you. They just tried to go through a more heinous path.

\- Or to give a treat to their beloved _Champion_.

Shiro fell his expression falling. He took another deep breath before continuing.

\- Your shoulder.

\- What about it?

\- You need to put it back in place. – he gesture with his hands – Can I…?

The boy studied him for a few moments before nodding again.

As gently as he could, Shiro grabbed the boy’s arm from behind. The young man tensed.

\- This’s gonna hurt. – Shiro warned him.

He nodded and bit his lips.

In fast movements, Shiro put the shoulder back in place the best way he could. The boy hissed and held back a scream.

\- There. – the older boy said, laying the hand and arm gently on the other’s lap.

His companion moved his arm around, testing it. He nodded again with a frown and a tired expression.

\- Good. – Shiro said, sitting on the way beside the tap. Far away enough not to get wet and to respect the boy’s space, but close enough in case he needed to intervene again.

The desperation of all that time alone made Shiro try to start a conversation.

\- Do you… like space…?

That earned him a glare.

\- None of your business.

Shiro nodded defeated, hugging his own knees.

\- Right. I’m sorry.

They stayed in a tense silence for some time.

When the boy started to shiver, Shiro announced that he was going to turn off the tap. He didn’t have any towel there, just an old and ratty blanket and his clothes. Thus, he offered the boy the rag-shirt that came with the prisoner suit.

The young man stared at it without accepting. He looked down and bit his lips again.

\- I… I don’t think it’s over…

Shiro blinked in confusion before enlightenment struck him.

The drug.

It effects weren’t over just yet.

\- Oh. – was all what he could say.

\- And I don’t want to be under the freezing water until it wears off.

\- Then it’s best if you take the shirt.

The boy blushed. This time it seemed to be out of embarrassment.

\- It’d be dishonourable to spoil your clothes after all what you already did for me.

Shiro sighed and rolled his eyes. He threw the shirt over the boy’s head (he yelped indignantly).

\- There’s no honour in a Galra prison. – Shiro said in a harsh tone while standing up – It’s the second thing they take from you, right after your name.

The boy stared at him agape and with wide eyes.

Shiro felt his shoulders falling, as if all the desperation, all the fear and all the pain he had been feeling suddenly were too much.

In a way, the young man looked like a warrior, with some old scars, toned muscles in his slim frame and a brave attitude. He seemed to be prepared for most of the shots the Galra could throw at him. But he also looked far too innocent about life under the Galra’s thumb, holding into ideals that couldn’t be kept.

Ideals don’t survive a Galra prison.

Shiro walked away, and towards one of the corners of the cell.

\- You can have the bed. I really don’t mind if you spoil it or not. And I won’t look.

He lay on the floor, turning his back to the boy and to the bed.

After some time, he heard his cellmate scrambling to get to the mattress.

At least the boy tried to muffle his moans.

However, his mere presence in the cell seemed to disturb Shiro.

He felt on the edge, worried about what he would do.

That was the longer he stayed near a person for a long time.

Not even Haggar stayed with him that long during her own experiments (they usually would run on their own for a while).

Shiro didn’t know what to do with himself anymore near people.

Especially not near beautiful young men under weird drugs influence.

He felt ashamed to feel aroused with the tiny sounds the boy was making, even with him biting his lips. Shiro refused to act on any of those impulses, though, meaning that he refused to turn around to look at his cellmate and he refused to touch himself.

The situation was already bad enough without him being a creep.

Even when he heard a quiet sniff, he kept his stoic position turned to the wall, staring at the rusty bolt.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep.

All what Shiro knew was that he woke up with a meal being pushed inside the cell.

He groaned, a little disoriented, and sat with his back against the wall.

The boy was still there. He was sitting on the wall opposite to him and studying Shiro with a concentrated frown. His un-braided hair was falling on his back like a black waterfall. It was dirty with sweat from the other night. The rag shirt was too big for him, so it looked like a dark ponch that Shiro hoped that it would cover until the boy’s thighs.

Shiro gave him a smile.

\- Morning.

The boy nodded.

\- How are you feeling? – Shiro continued.

\- I’m… I’m better. – he still had that gorgeous focused expression.

Shiro’s smile grew a little bit.

\- That’s great news! I thing the drug had worn off.

\- Yeah…

The older boy picked the tray of food and walked towards his cellmate, who tensed up with the approximation.

\- Here. – Shiro said offering the tray – You can have it.

Slowly, the boy picked the offered food.

Shiro just smiled at him and walked back to his side of the cell.

That was how they spent a long time: in silence. The boy warily would stare at him, as if waiting for an attack. Shiro just studied his hands.

At some point on their third meal together (Shiro had been alternating between him eating and the boy eating. The portions weren’t big enough to share) when the boy frowned.

\- Why are you helping me?

\- Huh?

\- You should be gutting me, torturing me or anything of the sorts! You’re the _Champion_ for fuck’s sake! You have an insatiable bloodthirst and an appetite for killing!

Shiro didn’t know why, but those words hurt.

Especially coming from that boy, and not a guard or a druid or Haggar.

He chuckled humourlessly, feeling tears in his eyes.

\- So that’s what people say about me, huh? – he laughed, feeling a few tears running down his face – I guess I deserve that, don’t I? I did all the terrible things they ordered me to do…

Shiro took a few deep breaths in order to hold back from crying.

The boy frowned.

\- If you think they were terrible things, why did you do them?

The older boy sighed.

\- I… I don’t want to die.

His cellmate eyes widened. Shiro looked away

They didn’t spoke anything else for a long time.

Shiro fell asleep again on the cold hard floor.

A nightmare plagued him.

He was tied to the operation table. Haggar wanted to see the inside of his abdomen, so she cut it open. The worst part was that it wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him. It was a memory.

He woke up startled with someone touching his shoulder. Shiro’s first reaction was to activate his hand and prepare for and attack.

However, it was just the young man. He took a step back and stood in a defensive position.

Shiro groaned and forced his body to relax.

\- I’m sorry. It was just a reflex.

The boy stared at him warily, but nodded.

\- I understand.

\- Do you need anything? – the older boy asked tiredly and still trying to shake the memory away, but sitting and giving the cellmate all his attention.

The boy bit his lips. Such a shame that he kept doing that and hurting himself. His long hair was tied in a messy ponytail. He was trembling, even with the blanket over his shoulders. The shirt probably didn’t help since, as Shiro had predicted, it only covered until his thighs.

\- How can you just sleep like this? – he demanded – It’s fucking freezing here!

Shiro blinked in confusion.

\- Is it?

\- You can’t possible not be feeling the cold!

\- I… I think I got used to it. - Shiro looked down to his lap.

His companion gasped in outrage.

\- Used to it!? How the fuck can anyone get used to it!?

Shiro hugged his knees, feeling ashamed and vulnerable. He put his head on his knees and closed his eyes.

\- It’s not like I have a choice…

He kept looking away from the boy. So far, he had been trying not to think about many things about his condition: about how the “bed” was just a thin mattress on the floor, how he was in constant hunger even with the constant meals, how his fingers and toes had been feeling numb for a long time and how he had been talking to a bolt out of desperation until they had thrown the boy into his cell. Shiro couldn’t change anything about any of that and if he stopped to think about it, the more he started to give up surviving.

It hurts to have someone like him, beautiful and handsome (even with the haematomas in various degrees of recovery and even being sweaty and dirty), someone with bright eyes full of hope, to point out that.

He wished the boy wouldn’t do that at the same time he begged the universe to keep that fire burning behind his eye. Hope was the last thing the Galra took him so far, and it would be devastating to see it been taken from someone else.

The boy sat by his side on the floor. Shiro could feel his purple stare as if it was burning him.

\- You don’t want to be here. – the young man said as if that was some big revelation.

Shiro thought about answering with sarcasm or about not answering at all, but he was just so tired and so desperately lonely that sincerity seemed to be the only thing to say.

\- No. I don’t. – he sniffed – I just want to go home…

The boy still stared at him.

\- Your fights on the Arena were just you trying not to die.

Shiro laughed humourlessly.

\- Yeah… It’s a lot less glamorous than what they make it seems…

\- And things were like this for you since the beginning.

The older boy took a deep breath.

\- Not exactly…

\- How so?

\- I… I used to share the cell with other people…

\- What happened to them?

Shiro sighed again, closing his eyes even tighter than before.

\- I don’t know. It’s been a long time since they took me from the shared cell tossed here alone. – another humourless laugh – Haggar didn’t want anyone messing with her lab rat.

For a while, the young man with purple eyes just kept staring at him while Shiro cried quietly, trying to muffle his sniffs and small hiccups, still with his head on his knees.

\- Why didn’t you attack me? – he asked softly, still staring at Shiro – If anything, you could use me as your punching bag. Nobody would blame you for getting angry and pissed off.

Shiro clenched his fists.

\- I’m not the monster they want me to be.

He let out a scared sob at the end of his sentence. Shiro didn’t want to sound so bitter, but he just couldn’t help himself anymore.

\- But you didn’t need to help me either.

\- Would you just… shut up? – he held back a hiccup – I really don’t need to know how little you think of me.

The boy watched him for some more time.

Shiro begged in his mind for him to stop.

Just…

Stop.

Please.

He wasn’t an animal to be studied.

Please, stop!

Please!

His cellmate moved as if he was going to stand up. However, instead of it, he touched Shiro’s shoulders and neck. Shiro raised his head and saw the boy with a determined expression in his face, like a man in a mission.

\- You’re cold. – he said pulling Shiro towards his lap.

He was just… _so warm_ …

As if Shiro had forgotten what was not to feel cold until he had his head nested on the young man’s shoulder and being cradled in his arms. The boy made him sit on his lap and then covered them both with the thin blanket. Then he smiled at Shiro.

\- This way we can save body heat.

He looked so innocent, with his bright purple eyes and soft smile…

Shiro couldn’t hold back anymore.

He cried.

It was messy, ugly and undignified.

He couldn’t care less.

After a long time, he was finally feeling something beside pain or despair. He had no idea anymore of what to call that good feeling, but he just didn’t want that to end.

He must have fallen asleep; for when he woke up, he was back on his bed.

For one agonizing moment, he was unsure if he had imagined the boy at all because he was losing his mind.

He was going crazy, wasn’t he?

Before he could panic, someone grunted behind him. Arms embraced his waist. His cellmate also threw a leg over his. Like an octopus hug. Shiro could feel his even breathing, since his chest was touching his back (the only barriers were Shiro’s suit and the rag-shirt the boy wore).

Shiro lost his breath for a moment due to relief.

Ok, either he was so far in the rabbit hole that he was even feeling the touch of his hallucinations, or the boy was really there.

Speaking of the devil, the boy hummed, and Shiro felt that in his ribcage.

\- You’re awake.

He sat on the mattress, but he still kept a hand over Shiro’s side.

Shiro himself turned around and sat in the bed, staring at his cellmate. They held hands, and the boy interlaced their fingers. His expression was very different from before. He seemed open, with soft eyes (as if he had also just woke up) and a small smile.

\- Are you feeling better?

Shiro stared at their intertwined fingers, feeling the calloused texture of his companion’s hand with his flesh hand.

He just nodded.

\- Good!

Shiro licked his lips and took a deep breath.

\- Why… why did you help me…?

\- My honour was tainted by the crude way I treated you. It’s my duty with myself to make amends.

\- You don’t own me anything. – Shiro looked away.

The boy puffed.

\- I know that for you, honour is meaningless, but to me, my family and my people, that’s what make us different from Zarkon and his goons. The Empire won’t break our spirit, no matter how hard they try.

Shiro looked back at his eyes.

There was a flame behind them, the flame of someone who had seem the worse, the most terrifying and the most vile in the universe and was still standing tall. He looked older than what Shiro had assumed, a battled warrior. He had scars of his own and he had carried Shiro (a man bigger than him) to bed gently.

Shiro had been a fool for assuming ignorant innocence just because the boy was younger than him and because he was bright-eyed. Only on that moment he realized that the light in his eyes came from fury, from the spirit of a fighter.

Unbend, unbowed, unbreakable.

It burned to look at him.

Shiro looked away again, ashamed of his state in many ways.

\- Hey… - the boy said softly touching his face – It’s ok…

Only then Shiro noticed that he was crying again.

\- You’re like me. They didn’t break you.

\- I did everything they want me to. – he sighed, trying to swallow the tears – They took everything…

\- They didn’t take your heart. – his eyes were full of a fiery confidence – You said yourself that you aren’t the monster they want you to be. You’re still you, no matter the dirty they threw on you, you are still you. They didn’t break your spirit, you’re unbreakable.

\- I’m bawling my eyes out over nothing and you still have the guts to call me that?

The boy gave him a gentle smile and his eyes shone like a warm fireplace.

\- Crying isn’t a sign of weakness. Since our birth, crying have always been a sign that we’re still alive.

That only made Shiro cry again. His companion hugged him, and held him the whole time while he cried.

He smiled at the older boy when he stopped crying.

\- Better?

He still held Shiro tenderly.

Shiro nodded.

\- I guess…

\- It’s a start. – he nodded – I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Keith. What’s your name?

\- My… name…?

\- Yes. – Keith’s smile grew. He was even more handsome when he smiled like that – It was stupid of me to assume that your name is “Champion”.

Shiro looked down.

\- My name…

Keith waited patiently until Shiro gathered his thoughts enough to answer him.

\- I’m… I’m Shiro…

Keith nodded encouraging.

\- Ok, Shiro! I guess we’re together on that.

Tentatively, Shiro smiled back.

Together…

He liked the sound of that word.

**Author's Note:**

> Making off of this story:
> 
> I'm embarassed to say that I can't seem to obey deadlines OTL  
> Fuck meeeeee....  
> I'm gonna end Shiro Week with a week of delay TT_TT  
> At least I'm gonna end it... I guess...  
> I HAVE TO finish the rainbow Shiro week! Now it's only Red and Pink left!
> 
> Anyway, **Unbreakable** was a little something that occured to me with Keith-of-BOM idea. As in: he was raised on the BOM HQ by uncle Kollivan (and all the other uncles, obviously hahaha xD).  
>  He has long hair here, usually in a braid and he is a helluva agent =3 He was captured in order to avoid that other three agentes were captured and that they lost the info they gathered. That probably won't appear in any part of the story, so here some fun facts!  
>  **Unbreakable** has 2 parts. This is them meeting and the next it's... well, we shall see LOL
> 
> Also, a small curiosity about the whole week: I'm making everything Sheith so no anti can rub their greasy hands on my fanfics LOL  
> But I'm doing my best to focus on Shiro o.o  
> I hope that it's working =3
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you have enjoyed the story so far! Leave a kudo and a comment if you liked!
> 
> I'm on tumblr if you want to find me, [@wonderland-s-angel](http://wonderland-s-angel.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Comments help me to get going, you know. Like, SERIOUSLY, they keep me going. I feed on them and I'm always hungry.


End file.
